


Expecto Patronum

by bells114



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 16:09:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14023866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bells114/pseuds/bells114
Summary: Sansa is frustrated that she cannot produce a corporeal Patronus charm in order to ward off the dementors. When Jon stumbles across the empty classroom in which she had been practicing, he attempts to help her practice her charm.





	Expecto Patronum

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm a long time reader, first time poster of fanfiction.
> 
> I'm not sure how this all works, but I obviously do not own A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones / Harry Potter nor any of their characters / settings / etc.
> 
> March 19: "Inspired by a favourite quote" - You'll see bits and bobs that have inspired me throughout - please enjoy :)

   “Expecto Patronum!” she waved her wand around in small concentric circles, but it was to no avail. A wisp of silvery mist was the only result of even her best efforts.

   She couldn’t afford to fail, not with the increased installation of dementor guards around the castle. They supped on her grief, as eager to steal a kiss from her as boys and men alike before them.

   And there was simply no one left to protect her.  

   _There is one._ A timid thought reminded her of the one who remained.

Only one perhaps, then, but surely he resented her at best – for being the one remaining when he had loved all others better, or for her treatment of him before such tragedies befell her and her family. And it was frightening to imagine what he felt at worst. Surely he despised her for being such a stupid, vain little girl.

   “Expecto Patronum!” she cried out again in frustration and desperation.

   Nothing happened this time at all. She brought her hands up to cover her face.

   “Sansa?” A voice tentatively called from the doorway.

   She gasped and spun around. Jon stood just outside the empty classroom where she had been practicing. “Jon? What are you doing here?”

   He ignored her question. “Are you having trouble with your Patronus charm?” he asked instead. Was he mocking her? She was still too unfamiliar with him to tell.

   “No,” she huffed defensively, “I’m just … practicing.” She dropped her eyes to the floor, afraid to meet his eyes and see the judgement there.

   “Go on, then,” he encouraged her. She raised her head to meet his eyes. They were warm and grey and kind, like Father’s had once been. But her experiences with men had caused her to be wary. What was he about?

   “I – ” she searched for an excuse, but she was flustered now and confused by his continued presence. Did he mean to watch her fail?

   No. Despite her misgivings, she knew deep down that Jon wasn’t like that.

   _Jon is Jon, and I can trust him._

   She took a deep breath to collect herself. “Expecto Patronum!” she tried, a bundle of nerves.

   Another tendril of silver escaped from her wand before puffing out of existence. She felt her face flush in embarrassment. Jon didn’t laugh, but then, he was never really the laughing kind.

   “What memory are you using?” he asked.

   She blushed and turned her back to him. “I was remembering the Yule Ball – the light of a thousand candles, the dancing and all the beautiful dresses…” she mechanically told him. It was something the old Sansa would have said, but that Sansa was dead. If he could tell it was a lie, he made no remark.

   He hummed noncommittally, but suggested perhaps trying another memory.

   She shook her head in discouragement, disheartened by her perpetual failure.

   In truth she had been remembering a snowball fight from her younger days. Arya had led her into an ambush and Bran had assaulted her with snowball after snowball. She had chased Arya until her lungs were burning with the cold and her laughter. But it hurt to remember how happy she had been then, with Bran and Arya now missing to her.

   “Maybe – maybe it’ll help if I show you,” he offered.

   He approached her slowly – as if she were a skittish creature – until he stood beside her. They shared a brief moment before he faced the empty classroom and prepared himself to perform the charm.

   “Expecto Patronum!” he cried out.

   A giant silver wolf erupted from his wand in a graceful leap. It prowled around them both before sitting on its haunches in front of her. It panted at her, its tongue lolling out.  

   “It’s like a ghost,” she whispered, leaning forward to scratch its head only for her hand to pass through the silver mist.   

   Robb’s patronus had been a wolf too.

   She didn’t notice the wetness in her eyes until Jon tentatively reached out and brushed a tear rolling down her cheek. Instead of retreating as he might have done, he held his hand there until she broke completely, throwing her arms around him and sobbing into his neck.

   “I know, I know,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I miss them too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago but never really thought to post it. I only made the decision to do so after being encouraged and inspired by the lovely works we're receiving from the concurrent '31 days of Jonsa' and 'Jonsa Drabble Fest' and all their wonderfully talented writers. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


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